


Lucky

by aypreal



Series: Otayuri: A Playlist [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, But only in thoughts, Crack, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, If You Squint - Freeform, LeoJi (mentioned), M/M, MilaSara (mentioned), Otabek is not as subtle, POV, Victuuri (mentioned), Yuri is thirsty af, jjbella (mentioned), kind of, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aypreal/pseuds/aypreal
Summary: “Well I was hoping you’d go with me. Besides, they're not that bad...”Yuri didn’t hear him though; chose to continue ranting instead. “Why would you voluntarily fifth wheel them..."“... Because of that, Yuri Plisetsky, are you going to awkwardly sixth wheel with me or not?”Or the week Yuri realized he was madly in love with his best friend.





	Lucky

Otabek was due to arrive in a couple of hours and Yuri was still not ready to face his best friend.

Best friend. It’s a rather tame label coming from the boy who had just realised the depth of his feelings towards the aforementioned friend.

Everything was running smoothly. Three years since Yuri Plisetsky met Otabek Altin again and the years were good on both skaters. The Grand Prix of Yuri’s senior debut was the first and last time the two of them did not share a podium. The distance was never an issue due to the blessing of technology. Yuri somehow influenced the other in using communication and social media apps more often than the Kazakh was initially comfortable with. And when training schedules or special occasions provided them the excuse, they would spend it visiting each other’s country and spend a week or two; sometimes they travel to backpack a different place filled with tropical fruit, white sand and mesmerising blue waves.

This time, their schedule allowed them both to indulge a quiet week in St. Petersburg. Yuri was finally allowed to get his very own apartment and Otabek just had to visit.

Yuri wanted his best friend to fill that empty drawer in his closet for some reason. Otabek does have a collection of comfortable hoodies and sweaters that Yuri had been itchy to 'borrow'.

Their friendship was great.

Until Mila ruined it.

Okay, technically she didn’t know what she did. She was innocent, but her playlist sure triggered a lot. It wasn’t even the entire playlist to be honest. It was just a song.

He and Otabek, they shared playlists with each other; sometimes the Kazakh would create one for him from scratch, a mix of genres and moods. But songs like the one Mila had, with all of her feminine hormones, just made everything confusing and a lot more clearer for Yuri. Albeit complicated.

She was over his place. Helped in tidying his kitchen and managed to call dibs on his bluetooth speakers. He was irritated because he wanted to listen to Otabek’s latest playlist but Mila did assist in filling his fridge with groceries and supervised him with what she called ‘kitchen aesthetics’, so he instructed her the bluetooth name of his speakers and let her loose.

Mila asked about Otabek of course. On when he’s coming to check his place out and how long he'll be staying. She also shared the time when her girlfriend, fellow skater Sara Crispino, discovered a flat near her home rink and immediately fell in love with it because the place was cozy and so ‘instargram friendly’. Yuri would relate of course. That brick wall on his living room and wooden floors on the hall would make great backgrounds for his flat lay shots. Plus the huge windows with built-in seats would look nice with his cheetah throw pillows.

“Has Nikolai met Otabek already?” Mila asked and Yuri frowned. His grandfather knew all about Otabek. Gods, if he doesn't rant about the people around him, coo at the latest feline related obsession, monitor his Grandfather's health, Otabek Altin was all he talked about.

“Of course. He met him multiple times already.” _My instagram had at least 15 pictures of him from our last Moscow visit._

Mila looked at him like he was stupid for not understanding what she meant by her statement. Yuri glared back of course. “No, silly. I know that Nikolai met Otabek already. You brought him over to Moscow multiple times. I mean, met him… Like… As in your boyfriend. I met Sara’s twin already but she wants me to meet her mom as well. How do…”’

“Wait…” Yuri started, dropping the yogurt he was about to open, “What?”

Mila rolled her eyes at that. “Are you slow or something today, kitten? When you introduced Otabek to your grandfather as your boyfriend, how did he take it?”

“Okay, what the fuck, Mila.” Yuri glared. Although he was very much aware of the blush that was creeping down from his cheeks to his neck. “Otabek’s not my boyfriend.”

The female skater only looked at him, tipped her red head sideways before saying, “You meant a ‘yet’ somewhere there right? Like, ‘Otabek’s not my boyfriend yet’. Right?”

After that, Mila was subjected to a heated explanation on how his relationship with Otabek wasn’t like that, that they were friends and _just_ friends. Of course Mila backed her assumption with points even Yuri can’t deny.

1.) He is softer and much easier to deal with whenever his best friend was around.

2.) He, who borderline gets an allergic reaction to touch yet never hesitated to lean on the Kazakh; in fact there was a time that he got too comfortable that he ended up sleeping on top of Otabek, curled and cozy as a domestic cat.

3.) He shares everything with his best friend; his fears and secrets. Like the affection he would never admit towards the idiot couple who may act stupid and too sappy for their old lives most of the time but were actually the only parent figure he had excluding his grandfather.

She had more points that he would never want to hear but after threatening about the ruin of her collection of designer sports bras, Mila stopped talking about it.

Until that one song started playing.

**_Do you hear me?_  
I’m talking to you  
Across the water,  
Across the deep blue ocean  
Under the open sky  
Oh my,  
Baby I’m trying**

**_Boy I hear you_  
In my dreams  
I feel you whisper  
Across the sea  
Keep you with me  
In my heart  
You make it easier  
When life gets hard**

**_Lucky I’m in love with my best friend  
Lucky to have been where I have been  
Lucky to be coming home again_ **

Mila laughed so bad that she was rolling on the floor. It was that ironic. She just experienced the once in a lifetime moment where Yuri Plisetsky realised that yes, he was in love with Otabek Altin.

It wasn’t even a soft crush, a puppy love you can get over from after the sparks or the fun ran out. No, it was the overwhelming type of affection that was akin to the idiot couple.

He was fucked and Otabek was still coming within a week’s time.

 

 

When he saw Otabek in the airport, he sincerely wished that what caused his mental freak out was because he missed his best friend; that it was the distance talking and not because he truly felt for the Kazakh. That he felt for him so much that it has the potential to ruin whatever they had between them. But at the sight of that smile so small that it looked more of a smirk and those warm, brown eyes that sometimes would appear as caramel and chocolate, Yuri knew he was a lost cause. The urge to hug and cling was overwhelming. The push to claim and kiss and confess was even more so.

He felt like crying when he was pulled into a hug. Being held in Otabek’s arms was the middle ground of everything he already has and now, wanted. It was confusing to have his affection. Yuri knew he already had it but at the same time, he don’t.

 

 

The first two days of Otabek’s visit was almost normal. They visited favourite spots in the city, captured pictures that would be shared to fans and more to be buried in their iCloud until it’s time to #throwback. Dinner with the idiot couple was okay at best, and somehow Yuri turned red when Viktor mentioned that it felt like a double date between two couples or a courtship between young lovers and parents. In the end, he was irritable and quiet for the the entire duration of the night.

If Otabek or the other two saw something odd in him, they didn’t voice it.

The third day brought rain and forced the two of them to stay inside Yuri’s apartment. He didn’t want to go the rink because Mila would be there and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction that yes, she was right with all of her assumptions except one. _We are not dating._

Yuri was on the floor, spread-eagled. He watched the rain through one of the huge ass windows of the room and barely aware of Potya, his cat, grooming herself by his hip.

A throw pillow dropped beside his head and suddenly, he had a relaxed Kazakh beside him. Though in a more coordinated set of limbs than he was, “You’ve been weird lately Yura.”

Of course he was. It wasn’t everyday that one would realise that they were head over heels on their best friend. “I obsess over cats and had the entire ice skating team of Russia as back up, what do you expect?”

Otabek only chuckled at that. “Weird as in, _you’re-not-on-your-normal-level-of-weird-right-now_ weird.”

Yuri half-heartedly glared at him with an unwanted pout on his lips. “What’s my _normal-level-of-weird_ then Beka?”

The other turned towards him and Otabek relied on his arm to support his head. That way, he was leaning over Yuri. And he was so close, _oh look, that’s probably the three-thousandth fifty eight raindrop to hit the glass window since I laid down trying to drown in self pity._ He was close and of course Yuri won’t be staring. That’s rude.

“Your normal kind of weird around me are the following; you talk my ear off from time to time about your never ending love-hate relationship with your pseudo parents or how adorable that orange kitten kept on following you for two blocks on your way to the rink for the past two months is. You have no sense of personal space so your normal weird should be you all over me as we sleep off this rainy afternoon or distracting me with your uncontrollable limbs as we play off that one video game you recently bought. Your level of weird would be adding another crack on your phone’s screen glass protector…”

“Okay, hold up…” Yuri brought up a hand to silence him, and Otabek smirked because he knew he was right. That was the norm of Yuri Plisetsky around his best friend. But has he always been that obvious? “I’m kind of torn if I should be angry at you for being full of yourself or be flattered that you pay so much attention to me but; I am not a leech nor that talkative.”

“But you are like that Yura.” Otabek laughed and the blonde glared; then the look on the Kazakh’s eyes turned a little bit sober. “That’s the normal you and that’s not what I’m seeing right now.” After that, Yuri felt soft finger tips glide on his temple, brushing the stray blonde strands that scattered there. “Besides, it’s hard to not pay attention at you so, talk to me?”

He didn’t know how to answer the attention-giving point so Yuri sighed and fought off the urge to lean on his best friends’s finger tips that were somehow still in the middle of brushing the strands off his temple. How did they fall into this level of skin ship anyway? Since when did Russian Punk Yuri Plisetsky comfortable with anyone aside from his grandfather? How did Otabek Altin wiggle his way into his ice walls and camped there permanently?

“It’s Mila.” He answered and _that raindrop was the three-thousandth one hundred two._

“What about Mila?”

“She irritates me.” Safe answer.

Otabek was not buying it though, “A lot of things irritate you Yura. Want me to number them down?”

He hated it when things go this way. When people make it obvious that they know him so much, that there are actual people out there aside from his grandfather that bothered to observe and listen that they knew things about him that he himself wasn’t aware of.

“No, I get it. You know me so much more than I know myself, don’t be over the moon about it.” Yuri defensively answered and even though he wasn’t looking at the other, he knew Otabek just rolled his eyes at him.

“I was being sarcastic but fine, I’m not going to force you into talking to me.” The finger tips retreated and Otabek was back into his position beside him. Yuri felt like he could breathe again. Otabek hovering over him like that was not good for his nerves. Nor his heart.

Nor his imagination or hormones.

Both of them fell into a comfortable silence. Again. The weather and warmth and the familiarity between them relaxed both skaters enough to not challenge each other after the words they exchanged.

Potya, who had enough grooming, began stepping on Yuri like he was meant to be stepped on by her feline majesty and went to Otabek. Once reaching him, she climbed over him as well but curled around his chest. She seemed satisfied to have the Hero of Kazakhstan serve as her royal mattress.

Yuri just watched her do it, wishing he could do the same.

“Stop being an asshole and talk to me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk.”

“Yeah, about Mila. Talk to me about something else.”

“And if I didn’t want to talk?” Yuri rolled his eyes at that; he could practically feel Otabek smirking beside him.

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Glaring, he turned to his side so he could watch the Kazakh pet the soft fur of his cat. _The traitor._

Otabek was staring at the ceiling as if it was the prettiest sight after that glowing frozen lake during the first week of winter in Moscow.

Yuri brought him there once. He insisted that his two favourite people in the world should meet and immediately made an arrangement for Otabek to accompany him during his week off in Moscow. The lake was one of the treasure pieces of his childhood and realised that the moment he let Otabek join him skate on that frozen lake was the start of lingering looks and tighter hugs and longer conversations that led to nothing and everything.

Yuri was just too stupid to realize it earlier.

Otabek’s profile from his place (a meter away) was stunning. Sure he had acknowledged long ago that his best friend ranked somewhere in the top 10 list of hot Olympians during the last season and received enough offers for cover shoots in some sports and teen magazines but all of that physical trait is just that — physical.

Not that Yuri takes that fact for granted, gosh, no.

He is thankful.

So thankful.

_I spent a full week going back and forth between denial and constantly changing my sheets because of that physical fact._

But what he fell in love with was not the Hero of Kazakhstan nor the resident Bad Boy. Not Otabae or Otababe (or whatever his hormonal fangirls call him these days).

And maybe he was a little fascinated in most versions of Otabek written in all _the angst-iest, horniest, corniest, most out-of-character_ fanfiction persona that he has. Alternate universe and head-canons included. Because that fact will only be admitted in the darkest part of Yuri’s soul. He has multiple anonymous accounts that he would like to bring to his grave.

But. No.

He fell in love with the bite of words, the hidden laughters, the shoulders that both comforted him and hid him when necessary, the soft brushes of finger pads against his temple, the _davai_ , the motorcycle escapades, the music, the raw yet graceful skating, the faint smell of leather, the caramel-chocolate, the smile-smirks, the surprise visits, the late night Skype conversations, random snaps or FaceTime, and the candid shots. He fell in love with version of Otabek Altin that is invisible to the public eye.

“So,” Okay, so he kinda forgot that he was staring at the real Otabek Altin for a moment there, “Leo told me something and I planned to share this with you a few days ago but it slipped my mind.”

“What about?”

“It’s going to be his birthday soon and he was planning on celebrating it by road-tripping for a musical festival. You in?” Otabek asked before his head turned to look at Yuri; his hand though did not stop petting Potya.

Yuri raised a brow. _Leo?_ “I’m not sure Leo enjoys my company.”

Otabek chuckled. _The fucker._

“To be honest, he finds you very entertaining to watch.” He stopped petting the cat for a while as his eyes squinted to look at the blonde. “He thinks that you’re doing it for comedy. He’s a little naive so he doesn’t know that all of your reactions are natural.” Then, in an act of nonchalance, he shrugged. “Oh well. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

_You’re lucky that I love you._

Yuri settled for a not so gentle punch on a toned shoulder which earned a laugh from the Kazakh.

“Who else is coming?” _A road-trip huh._

Otabek hummed for a while. The same way he does when he wasn’t sure if he should tell or not. “Guang-Hong.”

Yuri squinted his eyes at him. Guang-Hong is Leo's boyfriend. “I kind of expected that. Who else?”

“Maybe a certain Canadian couple —”

“What the fuck?!” The mere mention of JJ and Isabella brought him into a sitting position. _The nerve!_

Otabek at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“You’re going into a road trip with them?” Yuri asked — _unbelievable_.

“Well I was hoping you’d go with me. Besides, they're not that bad...”

Yuri didn’t hear him though; chose to continue ranting instead. “Why would you voluntarily fifth wheel them? Imagine this. Traveling states in what assumably a van with not enough heating nor air conditioning with two pairs of couples that won’t stop from acting all gross and fucking disgusting. I know I’m redundant but I’m aiming for a level that is only describable with synonymous words! You’d end up driving all the time while they fuck behind you!”

“I won’t mind —”

“Ew.” The blonde crossed his arms. “It’s either you’re a voyeur in secret or too much of a saint.”

Otabek rolled his eyes at him. “It’s not like you haven’t third wheel-ed before. As far as I know you’re a professional at that —”

“Which means that I know better.” Yuri interrupted. “Against my better judgement.”

Otabek sighed and sat up, successfully gathered Potya in his arms without interrupting her sleep.

“And because of that, Yuri Plisetsky,” _And they call me dramatic,_ “are you going to awkwardly sixth wheel with me or not?”

At the reminder of the speech he delivered a few years ago, Yuri softened. Only on the inside though. Because he’s the fucking Ice Tiger of fucking Russia therefore his glare do not falter.

Nor did Otabek’s resolve though.

Unluckily.

So he sighed. It’s not like he’d decline any opportunities to be with Otabek anyway. He’s not that strong but his kinda hopeless so…

“Gods give me strength.” He whispered. Resigning. Gods he was easy. _Well can you blame me? Look at him!_ “So we’re going to be on a road trip with two couples.”

“I was hoping to end it at three.”

“What?”

“What?”

Yuri was unsure if he heard him right. Was he assuming it correctly? Dammit he wasn’t good with these stuff!

Yuri looked at Otabek as the other observed him in return. He was all meek all of the sudden, Otabek. All fire and bravado — gone. Not that Yuri was any different. He can’t dare say a word now! He’ll ruin everything if he assumed wrongly. And besides, it was only Otabek’s 3rd day of visit. Will he cut his visit short if Yuri fucks up?

_What the fuck, what if he cut all ties with me and never want to see me again?_

The tension was broken by Potya jumping out of Otabek’s arms, and suddenly, all eyes were on the cat. She stretched for a bit, rubbed her side on Yuri’s leg before disappearing further into the apartment.

The rain outside still continued and Yuri forgot how many raindrops he was counting before Otabek joined him.

Meanwhile, the Kazakh looked around for a minute or two before finally avoiding Yuri’s gaze as if he was a kid guilty of stealing mom’s last cookie from the jar. Then slowly, laid down and stared at the ceiling more.

Quiet. So, so quiet.

On the outside.

Yuri on the inside though had thundering drum rolls and noisy, proud, _too much sugar, too much rainbow_ , pride parade.

So he went back on his lying position too; but instead of staring at the ceiling like a Kazakh idiot, he stared at the person himself and felt like the parade inside him stopped for awhile, hesitant if they should continue marching in rainbow and throwing confetti and messing up Yuri’s insides.

“Beka.” He whispered. Gods he can feel the parade staring at them. Waiting. Anticipating.

“Yura?” The Kazakh replied. Someone in the parade gasped.

“Do you like me?” His words were low, as if each letter was fragile and any louder, Otabek would laugh at him for being silly and that reaction would break his heart. Kind of. Maybe. Yeah. For sure.

“Like?” Otabek shrugged. “You’re my best friend Yura. Of course I like you.”

_What the fuck. Am I on the friend zone? Am I being friend zoned? Wait. Wait! What the fuck. Wait! I'm not oriented enough for this shit!_

“In love though,” Otabek looked at him and Yuri was kind of torn on how to react after the friend zone trauma, “Yeah. Definitely.”

The parade was even noisier the second time around.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to write about the roadtrip and the music festival which was initially the original plot but I realized that I don't really focus on the other ships that much so I'm sorry about that. I don't wanna make anyone too OOC just for the main ship to sail... Anyway, let me know if you like this or if you have any songs in mind just drop it in the comment section and hopefully it can hit the dozen or two HCs/AUs in my head. Thanks for reading!


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